New Traditions
by AppleJackDaniels
Summary: Emma had always hated Christmas until the year she had people to share it with and realized she loved it. Quick, little Christmas Captain Swan fluffy one-shot I pooped out because the mood struck. Posted on here from my tumblr by request.


Emma had always hated Christmas.

It was all pretense under the guise of something beautiful and wonderful as people spent money they didn't have, drowning themselves in insurmountable debt to buy people things they didn't need. Christmas was a time of year meant to unify families, bringing loved ones together to share in happiness and thanks, and every year, it cruelly mocked her with her loneliness, tormenting with her with the reminder that she _didn't_have loved ones, didn't have a family to lavish with gifts and joy and laughter and love.

Families walked the streets, their soft footsteps crunching in freshly fallen snow as adoring parents strode hand-in-hand, watching their children with adulation as they ran ahead, shrieks of a laughter echoing in Emma's ears, taunting her with a reality she could have had.

For 28 years, she suffered through the holiday, counting down the days until Christmas passed, begging and wishing for it to simply be _over_ so that life could fall back into its monotonous routine of chaos and stress, society commiserating with one another in their misery.

Emma hated Christmas.

Until the year she had a family, the year that she had loved ones to share the season with, the first Christmas where she sat in the comfort of an overly decorated apartment, the room radiating with warmth and comfort and an outpouring of love. It was nearly overwhelming, the misplaced comfort of having a place she called _home_, having people she considered to be her _family. _

Family.

It'd always been a foreign term to her, an idea that she didn't understand, a concept she couldn't comprehend. And then, in just a few weeks' times, her son had found her, her parents had returned to her, and she found _love. _

For the first time, she didn't wake on Christmas morning with feelings of dread and isolation – she woke feeling _excited_. A few of the residents of Storybrooke had gathered together in her apartment, the room thriving with the bliss of people as they passed gifts to each other, sounds of their lilting laughter resonating in the quaint living space.

Emma would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy herself, didn't enjoy the feelings of belonging as everyone crowded together under the same roof, but it almost bothered her, made her uncomfortable with its unfamiliarity. It was all too sudden, too strange, too alien, and she kept waiting for the moment that the mirage would fade, the silhouettes of her family melting away as they gave rise to an empty apartment, mocking her with her solitude, teasing the orphan into thinking she had a home, that she had people who _loved_her.

Emma felt a strange tug in her chest, a hum that spread through her as it finally dawned on her.

She had a family. She had love. She had a reason to celebrate.

Watching from a dark, quiet corner of the room, Emma sat in silent contemplation as she wrapped her hands around her mug of hot cocoa, observing her son. Henry nestled in a pile of torn paper and shredded bows, ribbon lying carelessly on his shoulder as he thumbed through a new book Mary Margaret had given him, his eyes bright and shining with happiness, the innocence of youth, utterly enraptured with the grand tales that the story told. The sight of his pure, unadulterated joy warmed Emma's heart, appeasing the icy clutch that had coiled itself in her chest for nearly three decades.

Her gaze was drawn to her pirate, smiling wickedly at something that was said, a playful gleam in his vividly blue eyes that sparkled so brightly, Emma could see it from across the room. Feeling the heat of her stare, Killian slightly tilted his head to look at her, catching her eye with the burning intensity of his gaze. She saw something flicker across his face, features brimming with an indiscernible emotion as he considered her. Politely excusing himself from the conversation, he stole his way across the room, walking in long strides.

"This Christmas of yours, I think I could grow accustomed to it," he stated in a deep, soothing voice as he sidled into the seat next to her, his knee gently brushing against hers.

"You just like it because people are giving you things," she teased him as she nudged him with her shoulder, fiddling with the empty mug in her hand, wistfully looking down as the ceramic grew cold in her grasp.

"Aye, that's true," a crooked smile tugged at the edge of his mouth as he peered at her through the corner of his eye. "But as rumor would have it, I hear that half the fun lies in the gift-_giving_."

Cocking an eyebrow, Emma turned to face him, greeted by his knowing stare, his penetrating gaze. Her stomach fluttered for a moment at the emotion she saw swimming in the depths of those captivating irises and she found herself momentarily mesmerized by their dark beauty.

Dropping her gaze, his hand disappeared inside his coat for a moment before he procured a small, carefully wrapped box, turning it over in his fingers as he considered it. "You wouldn't _believe_ how bloody difficult it was to wrap this with a hook for a hand. I kept punching holes into the paper." He gave an appreciative smile as he motioned towards Henry with a wave of his hand. "I had to enlist your boy's help in preparing it for you."

Holding the gift out in front of Emma, he gave her a slight nod of his head as he gestured for her to take it. She looked startled for a moment, observing the box – its green wrapping paper and overly large red bow – with a puzzled expression, brow knit in confusion. "You got me a gift?"

Killian scoffed at her question, brow arching on his forehead. "Does that surprise you?"

"Well… yeah, actually. It kind of does," she admitted quietly and Killian's face flickered with a flash of pain, his grin faltering for the barest of moments. Realizing how her admission sounded, she explained quickly, words pouring out of her mouth nervously, "I'm just not used to people getting me anything. I've… I've always been alone on Christmas."

"Perhaps it's time to start a new tradition, then."

He held the gift out expectantly, still waiting for her to accept his offering, and she saw his jaw clench as he shifted his teeth, Adam's apple bobbing as he forcibly swallowed. Smiling inwardly to herself, she realized her pirate was just as nervous as she, the present he extended to her representing so much more than a mere Christmas exchange. As he held it out to her, deep down, Emma knew he was waiting for her to accept his _love. _

Carefully taking the green wrapped present from his hand, Emma smiled slightly at him, feeling a stirring in her chest at the implications of the gift, of her _acceptance_of it_. _See saw relief flood over his face when she finally held the present, thumb and forefinger worrying a loose end of the bow.

"Thanks, Killian."

Both of his eyebrows rising on his forehead, he nodded a few times with a slight smile, suddenly anxious and, if Emma didn't know better, she'd say he was embarrassed, and it was endearingly adorable on her usually smug and pompous pirate.

"Anything to see you smile, love." Chest heaving as he puffed out a loud sigh, he rose from his seat. "Yes, well, I'm off to mingle with the locals. Enjoy your gift, Emma. Merry Christmas."

As he walked back to the small crowd of people, easily joining their light-hearted conversations, Emma looked down at her present and unwrapped it slowly, tearing the paper away deliberately as she revealed a small brown box. Opening the lid, she saw a delicate, ornately decorated porcelain swan. Wide smile breaking across her face, she ran her finger along the wing of the figurine, admiring the hidden meaning of the uncharacteristically sentimental gift.

Looking up, Emma watched as Henry hugged Killian, embracing him tightly, a knowing look in his eye as he met his mother's gaze.

And in that moment, filled with the warmth of love and family as it thrummed in her chest, Emma decided that she loved Christmas.


End file.
